Go
by GreatPretending
Summary: Kurt and Blaine make the mistake of climbing through the window of an old, abandoned building, neither knowing what it has in store. But Kurt finds that he can communicate with his mother, so was it really a mistake? Semi-horror story with Klaine fluff.
1. Encounter

**A/N: **_So, my other story was starting to make me angry, so I wrote this instead. But don't worry, I'll post more for the other later. Grilled Cheesus knows what brought this story to my brain, as I've been doing nothing but reading Harry Potter all day... Anyhoo. I hope you enjoy what I've whipped up for you!~_

**Disclaimer: **_If I owned Glee, Rachel would have died a very slow and painful death, and Kurt and Blaine would be together already, dammit._

* * *

The room had a strange, damp feel to it, and the cold air smelled of mildew as it bit through Kurt Hummel's jacket and scarf. Looking around, the countertenor squinted through the darkness at the multiple cracks in the abandoned brick walls, and a twig snapped under his foot as he stepped down from the windowsill, making him jump.

"Blaine?" he whispered, unable to find his boyfriend in the dim light. A hand grabbed his and he started again.

"It's just me," the familiar voice said, pulling Kurt closer to his side. The younger boy wrapped his hand around the top of Blaine's arm as he pulled out a flashlight.

"Would you remind me why, exactly, we're breaking into a one hundred and twenty-six year old, abandoned insane asylum in the middle of then night?" Kurt hissed, glancing around nervously. He hated horror movies, much less being in the middle of one. The stories about this place weren't just rumors. He'd grown up in this town, and had heard his fair share of said stories.

"Because it'll be fun," Blaine whispered back, flashing his light through an open doorway and pulling the smaller boy through. "Come on, Kurt, where's your sense of adventure?"

"Safely tucked away in the sane part of my brain that wishes to inform you that we're _breaking the law_ right now."

Right then the door slammed behind them. Kurt latched onto Blaine and pressed his face into the older boy's shoulder to muffle his scream.

"It's just the wind from when we opened the window," Blaine soothed him.

"I _really_ don't like this, Blaine," Kurt's voice shook with fear. "Can we please get out of here?"

"Alright," the senior moved to open the door again, only to find that it was locked. "It looks like we'll have to find another way out." Blaine smiled apologetically. Kurt groaned.

The countertenor stuck close to his boyfriend's side as they made their way through the corridor, only hearing the sound of their footsteps echoing off the walls. They tried the few doors they came across, but each was locked. Kurt muttered curses under his breath as they continued, bunching the material of Blaine's jacket in his hands as the hall somehow managed to grow even darker.

There was a creaking of a door opening and closing ahead of them, and the boys froze, Blaine swinging the flashlight around in attempt to find the source of the noise. The sound repeated, from behind them this time, and they twisted around, only to find the corridor as empty as they'd left it.

Kurt felt a cold hand grip his shoulder then, and he screamed, knowing for a fact it wasn't Blaine's. He spun around again and grabbed Blaine's hand as they went sprinting in desperate search of an open door.

"Shit!" Kurt yelled as the next door was locked. He started to turn away, but Blaine's hand was suddenly wrenched from his and the older boy was disappearing _through_ the door, yelling his name.

In a moment of adrenaline-fueled courage, the junior took a step back and kicked at the door with all the strength he had—and _holy hell_ to the pain that shot through his leg. He hadn't gotten the door down yet, but he'd definitely done damage. Just one more kick got it of its hinges and had it clambering onto the floor. Kurt swooped down and grabbed the dropped flashlight, shining it about the new room.

It looked like a living room of sorts, with an old rug, a rickety rocking chair, and a fireplace. There were cobwebs everywhere, and it smelled as dusty as it looked.

"Kurt?" the countertenor twisted to look at the opposite corner of the room, where he found Blaine slumped against a wall, a deep gash glistening crimson through his pant leg.

"Blaine!" the younger boy exclaimed, rushing to his side. "What the hell was _that_?"

"I have no idea," the senior groaned. "But you were right about this being a bad idea."

"I usually am," Kurt said, "but we can talk about my superior knowledge later. Right now we need to get out of here. Can you walk?" Kurt and Blaine both looked worriedly at the deep cut on his calf.

"I think so," the soloist said. Kurt jumped up and ran to the large window, pulling it open.

"Holy shit, Blaine, we lucked out _so _fucking bad," Kurt said, dashing over to his boyfriend again. The junior slid his arm around Blaine's shoulders and helped him to his feet, allowing the older boy to lean against him as they made their way back to their window to freedom. Kurt helped Blaine up and over the sill, and then started to follow him out.

Before he could, though, the window slammed shut again, and the old glass that was now separating them muffled Blaine's cry of astonishment. Kurt felt the same cold hand on his shoulder that he had earlier, and he turned slowly to face whatever it was.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't scream for help. He couldn't hear Blaine's shouting and banging on the glass behind him. All he could do was stare, horrified, at the figure in front of him. It was a pitch-black silhouette, nearly shapeless if it hadn't had an obvious head and an arm still reaching towards him. It lifted that hand to his face now, and if Kurt had felt cold before, it was nothing compared to the ice that coursed through his veins now.

Kurt knew he was dead, that this was death coming to claim him. At least he knew that Blaine had gotten away safely. Not wanting to witness it, the boy squeezed his eyes shut.

But nothing happened.

He opened them again, and found that the silhouette had disappeared. Kurt blinked a few times, wondering what the hell just happened, when a soft glow caught his eye.

In the dusty, antique mirror that hung on the opposite wall, Kurt saw the most beautiful, yet confusing thing he'd ever encountered. There in the glass, his mother's face smiled back at him. He stared in shock.

"_Go_," she whispered. Her voice was exactly the same as he's remembered it. Soft, sweet, loving.

Blaine had managed to get the window open then, and grabbed Kurt's arm through the opening.

"Kurt, come _on_," he said. The countertenor numbly crawled out onto the fire escape, glancing back at the mirror once before descending, but the glowing face with the blue eyes had disappeared.

* * *

Kurt sat on the bed of Blaine's dorm room, bandaging the other boy's leg. The cut wasn't nearly as bad as they'd originally thought, not deep enough to need stitches at all.

"Let's agree never to do that again," the soloist squirmed as the countertenor distractedly cleaned the wound with peroxide. His mind was glued to the image of his mother's face. "Kurt?"

The junior snapped out of his thoughts, looking into Blaine's worried, hazel eyes.

"You've barely said three words since we got out of that place. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, just a little shocked is all," Kurt said, standing up to replace the first aid tools in the bathroom. When he returned, Blaine opened his arms and the younger boy curled into his side.

"So we'll never do that again, right?" Blaine queried.

"I do believe I was the one trying to convince you not to do it in the first place," he retorted with a yawn. God knew his brain wasn't going to shut up, but he was exhausted.

Blaine fell asleep quickly, but the younger boy lay awake for some time more, remembering the soft smile on his mother's face, the way she expressed all of her love and care through the one word. _Go._

_Don't worry_, Kurt heard the same voice say. _I'm always watching over you_.

* * *

_Bleh. So, yeah... Let me know what you think. I meant for this to be a one-shot, but if enough of you lovely gleeks ask for more... well, who am I to deny you? ;)_

_XD Aaaaaanyway... As many of you probably already know, Criticism = Love :)_

_Love, Live, Sing_


	2. Sweet Dreams

**A/N:** _Okay, okay, I gave in. Although I believe the first chapter was a good one-shot, I gave into temptation and wrote a second chapter. -_-  
I will be continuing this, but it's not going to be nearly as long as my other story-which I still have to update for...  
So, anyway, onto the chapter. Let me know what you think, though. Also, please excuse any spelling mistakes. I may be a spelling nazi, but I never actually proofread my work... 'xD_

**Disclaimer:**_ If I owned Glee, it would have been on last night._

* * *

_Mom?_ Kurt sat up violently, and then he felt pretty stupid. As if he could telepathically communicate with his dead mother. He lay back down.

_But you can, _he heard her voice say again.

The countertenor stiffened, and then tried to pass it off as his fear-fried imagination playing tricks on him.

_It's not._

_Are you fucking joking right now? _Kurt thought in exasperation.

_No, I'm regular joking. _Now he was just confused. _Kidding, honey._

_So you're saying that now that I've seen her face in an old mirror of an insane asylum, I can suddenly speak with my mother who's been dead for ten years through my __**thoughts**__? _Kurt thought angrily.

_You've always been able to_, his mother's voice rang clearly through his mind, still soft and patient despite his rude tone. _I've been talking to you for years. You just never knew it was me._

Oh, Lord. Kurt was pretty sure he was just delirious after a traumatizing experience. This was all in his head. He'd go to sleep, and everything would return to normal when he woke up.

_Beaux rêves_, he heard, just the same way his mom always told him when he was a child.

* * *

The next morning, Kurt was disappointed to wake up to an empty bed. He was rewarded though, when the soloist in question walked out of the bathroom humming _Dear Prudence_. And he was shirtless. Kurt watched a drop of water roll down Blaine's bicep as he scrubbed his hair with a towel.

"Well good morning, sexy," the junior said as he stretched.

"Good morning," the older boy replied with a smile, giving him a chaste kiss.

_Tell him I love that song._

Kurt jumped about six feet in the air, squeaking a little.

"Kurt?" Blaine looked at him confusedly. The countertenor rammed the heel of his hand into his forehead.

"You've got to be kidding me," he grumbled.

"Kurt, what's gong on?" Blaine asked worriedly, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed. Kurt just shook his head.

"I think I'm going crazy," he groaned.

"Okay," the senior said slowly. "I highly doubt that, but why?" The smaller boy shook his head again.

"_You'll_ definitely think I'm crazy."

"No I wont," Blaine argued.

"You'll laugh."

"I won't. I Promise."

Kurt sighed.

_You should tell him._

_Why?_

_Because he'll believe you._

_How do you know?_

_I just do._

"Alright," Kurt sighed again, then pulled his legs in and sat up straight, facing Blaine. "This is absolutely insane on about a thousand different levels, but _please_ try to bear with me." Blaine just nodded. So Kurt explained everything, starting with the window shutting, and ending with their last little conversation.

Blaine just sat there for a minute, pondering, and Kurt couldn't read the expression on his face. He grew increasingly nervous with ever passing second.

"You're serious?" Blaine finally said, making eye contact with his boyfriend once more. Kurt nodded and bit his lip. "That's… _totally awesome_." Kurt gaped at him.

_I told you so_, Kurt could practically _feel_ his mother's smirk.

_Oh, hush._

"Kurt?" the countertenor snapped his attention back to Blaine. "Are you okay?"

"Uh… yeah, I think so," the junior said.

_Honey, I know this is weird, and we can most definitely stop if you want to. By no means do we have to do this. If you're uncomfortable, or scared, I can very easily disappear again until you ask to talk to me. _Kurt's eyebrows screwed together and he bit his lip again.

_No, I don't want that. I want to talk to you… but it's going to be seriously weird for a while. It'll take some time to get used to, _he thought.

_I absolutely, completely understand. And we can even set some rules later if that makes you feel better, so you know I won't be invading your every thought. But for right now, you should probably pay attention to your seemingly worried boyfriend._

Kurt's eyes focused on the hand that was waving in front of his face.

"Sorry," he said, shaking his head a little. "I was, er, talking to her." His eyebrows knitted together again.

"That's alright," Blaine smiled, and Kurt was distracted.

"You know, I never understood why people thought that being wet was sexy," he said, twirling his fingers into the other boy's curls. "But I totally get it now."

"Way to change the subject," Blaine laughed.

"Oh, get over here," Kurt said, pulling his boyfriend into a kiss.

_Let me know when you want to talk_.

Kurt tried to ignore the wink that he sensed.

* * *

_Weird ending, I know, but there'll be more..._

_Criticism = Love  
__Love, Live, Sing_


	3. Not Happening

**AN:** _Took me a while to update. I'm sorry :( I had a few extra minutes at school and whipped this up for you._

**Disclaimer:** _I wish I owned Glee._

* * *

The rest of the weekend passed almost normally for Kurt. On Saturday afternoon, while Blaine was at a basketball meeting, the countertenor had sat down on his bed and given his mother his undivided attention. They set ground rules, such as no bugging him while he was with Blaine, before 6:30 on weekdays, or while he was in class. All of these had one exception, of course, if Kurt came to her first.

So on Monday morning, the junior found himself dead to the world at his, Blaine's, Wes', and David's usual breakfast table, the latter two yet to arrive. He glared at his coffee cup, not having the energy to pick it up and drink it.

"It's not going to drink itself, you know," Blaine said, swallowing a bite of his waffles. "Though that would be an amusing sight." The smaller boy just dropped his face into his arms, and Blaine reached over and rubbed his back soothingly.

"How are you so _awake_?" Kurt asked. "You're the one who's been at practice non-stop over the past two days, and it's not even basketball season!"

"True, but here at Dalton we set up the teams at the end of the year so we can practice over the summer," the older boy explained. Kurt just grunted.

A few minutes later, he noticed it was almost time for Wes and David to appear, wolf down their large breakfasts, and disappear again.

"Hey, Blaine?" Kurt sat up, stretching his arms out in front of him.

"Yeah?"

"Could you do me a favor and not mention this to Wes and David?" the countertenor gestured to his head and pointed up. The senior looked at him confusedly for a moment.

"Oh, about your mom?" Kurt nodded. "Of course, I wasn't planning on it anyway."

"Thanks."

_Tell him I dare him to straighten his hair. That'd be a sight to see._

Kurt burst into laughter. _Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen._

_A very attractive disaster._

_True, true._

"So do I get to hear the joke?" Blaine asked, hopelessly confused.

"She dares you to straighten your hair," Kurt informed him.

"Oh," Blaine said. "Been there, done that."

_Oh, really?_

"And?" Kurt pressed.

"It was a disaster."

"An attractive one, I'm sure."

_Hey! No stealing my lines!_

_He's _my_ boyfriend. Shouldn't you be shunning lovey behavior anyways?_

_Please, that's no fun._

Kurt smiled into his coffee cup as Thing One and Thing Two sat down opposite himself and Blaine.

"Morning, lover boys!" Wes explained as he started in on his french toast, and David hummed 'Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy.'

_I love that song._

The youngest Warbler rolled his eyes as he drained his remaining coffee. He then proceeded to throw the empty cup across the near empty room and into the garbage can, which was a good twenty feet away. When he turned back to the group, he found six eyes trained on him in disbelief.

"What?" He asked, horribly confused.

"How'd you do that?" Wes asked, pointing between him and the garbage.

"Uh... Skill?"

"Blaine, it looks like you've got new competition for your spot on the team," David said.

"He _is _taller than you," Wes added.

"What are you talking about?" the junior demanded.

"If you can make a shot like that, we'll be testing your skills on the court," Thing One explained.

"Wait, you mean _basketball_?" Kurt said, shocked. "No way. Never happening."

"Oh, come on, Kurt. It'll be fun!"

While Kurt and the Things bantered, Blaine was having a hard time getting his mind off of Kurt in a basketball uniform, sweaty from the exertion of play.

"At least try it," the soloist interjected. It was Kurt's turn to don the look of disbelief.

_"_Fine," he muttered, crossing his arms. "But there's no _way_ I'm joining the team."

* * *

_Short short short~_

_Up next, Kurt plays basketball! Woot!_

_Criticism = Love_

_Love, Live, Sing_


	4. Cornflakes

**AN: **_Haha! I'm not grounded anymore! So I'll be updating regularly again! Wooot! :D Sorry my chapters aren't any longer, but that's just the way I write I guess._

**Disclaimer:** I own Glee about as much as I own a five-speed llama.  
If I had a five-speed llama, I wouldn't be here right now.

* * *

Awkward was a wonderful feeling compared to Kurt felt at that moment. The slim boy was wearing some of the old clothes he'd worn for football practices the previous year, and was standing in the middle of the spacious basketball court at Dalton Academy. Blaine was there with him, holding back his laughter while his boyfriend awkwardly threw the ball at the ground, jumping back in surprise as it shot back up at his face.

"Here," Blaine smiled, scooping up the basketball from where it was bouncing away from the pair. He then proceeded to show the younger Warbler how to properly dribble the ball. "Spread your fingers like this," he demonstrated, "and just keep them curved. The senior dribbled the sphere a few times before holding it out to Kurt. The latter took the ball with a glare to it, and attempted to mimic Blaine's actions.

"Like this?" he asked, eyeing it as it bounced between his fingers and the court floor.

"Yes. Exactly," Blaine said in awe. "Are you sure you've never played before?"

"Pretty darn," he said, catching the basketball as it bounced back up towards him. "Now what?"

"Come over here," Blaine said, dragging Kurt over towards a hoop. "Now, you're going to stand here," he took his place on unidentifiable little box painted on the court floor, close to the hoop. "Put your right hand under the ball like this, and use your left as a guide." The soloist got into the basic shooting position. "Then aim for the corner of the little box, bend your knees, and shoot."

Blaine shot the ball into the hoop, then jogged over to it, grabbed it and tossed it back to the skeptical boy, who caught it and moved to stand where the other had been moments before. Kurt pulled the ball up the way he'd been shown, and shot Blaine a questioning look.

"Close," his boyfriend said, taking Kurt's elbow and moving it up. "Your arm needs to be at a ninety degree angle." Kurt complied. "And spread your legs a little more," the senior nudged his boyfriends knees apart, causing that boyfriend's mind to get a little foggy and heat to rise to his face.

"Alright, go for it," Blaine said, taking a step back.

Kurt shook his head a little to clear it, then took aim, bent his knees, and shot.

"Yes!" the other boy exclaimed as the basketball went into the net with ease.

The rest of the afternoon continued like that. Kurt was a natural. Only stumbling during the most difficult of things. He even got the Spider trick down on his third try. It was when Blaine was showing the smaller boy how to get around a defender that things got…interesting.

Kurt had his back pressed against Blaine's, facing away from the net, and trying to push the other backwards while dribbling the basketball.

"Nope," Blaine said, grabbing Kurt's hips to stop him. The latter quickly caught the ball and turned around. "The last thing you want to do is turn your back to the basket," the older boy continued, but Kurt wasn't paying attention.

Blaine's face was _right there_. He could see all of the little flecks of gold in the seas of green that were his eyes. His hair was just a little damp from running around all afternoon, and his hands were strong and firm, still placed on his hips. Kurt tossed the ball over his shoulder before wrapping his arms around Blaine's neck and crashing their lips together.

The older Warbler was a little surprised, but he definitely wasn't complaining. He pulled the smaller boy against him by his hips and tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

"Whoa! No PDA on the court!"

The pair jumped apart at the exclamation, turning their heads toward the entrance where Wes and David stood, smirks plastered on their faces.

"How do you guys always know the worst time to appear?" Blaine grumbled as Kurt turned a bright shade of red.

"We have radars that detect inappropriate behavior on campus?" David suggested.

"Creepers," Kurt muttered, moving to pick up the discarded basketball.

"So how's our horrible spy doing at sports?" Wes asked, ignoring the glare that the junior shot at him.

"Very well, actually. I'm very impressed," Blaine said with a smile.

"You going to try out for the team?" David asked Kurt, who shook his head with a horrified expression on his face.

"No. No way," he said sternly.

"Why not?"

"Because as fun as it was this _one_ time, there's no way I'd do it on a regular basis," the slender boy shook his head again. "And right now, I'm exhausted and sweaty, and I still have homework." He handed the ball to David as he passed. He paused before leaving the room.

"Gentlemen," he said before exiting, leaving the other three boys looking after him in confusion.

"Who peed in his cornflakes this morning?" Wes asked.

"I have no idea."

* * *

_:O What happens next? I still don't know yet.  
Off to find food and play Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time I go!~  
__Criticism = Love  
Love, Live, Sing_


	5. Lucky

**AN: **_Okay, so this basically just some really short, filler fluff to get you through until I start writing the actual plot. Sorry it takes me so long to update. You see, as much as I love writing fanfics, writing screenplays is my first love, so this comes second :P But there WILL be a plot soon. Promise. And Kurt's mom isn't in this one, but she most definitely will be in the next._

**Disclaimer: **_I don't want to own Glee. That kiss was **PERFECTION.**_

* * *

When Kurt exited his bathroom, dressed in his pajamas, he heard a knock on his dorm-room door. Scrubbing a towel through his wet hair, the countertenor pulled it open to reveal his boyfriend, clad in his basketball sweatpants and a Gryffindor House T-shirt.

"Hey," Blaine greeted him. "You okay?"

Knowing that the senior was referring to his mini-freak out earlier, Kurt nodded sleepily and yawned.

"Just tired," he explained. "And you know how rude I can get when I'm running on no sleep." Blaine shut the door behind himself and put his arms around the smaller boy. Kurt leaned his head against the other's shoulder, the cotton of the T-shirt soft against his cheek and the scent of Blaine's ivory soap, laundry detergent, shampoo, and that _Blaine_ smell invaded his brain as he inhaled.

The older boy ran his fingers through Kurt's still-drying hair, kissed his forehead, then slowly and carefully led him to his bed. The junior curled up underneath the covers as his boyfriend leaned down to push his bangs out of his face and kiss his cheek. When Kurt felt the body moving away, his eyes snapped open.

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded, scowling and opening his arms. Blaine smiled and joined him on the bed. He held Kurt close, resuming stroking his hair, loving the feel of it as much as the other.

"We're supposed to be in our own rooms on weeknights," Blaine whispered.

"Wes will cover for you," Kurt countered, holding his boyfriend tighter against him. Blaine chuckled and sighed in contentment before drifting off to sleep.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

_I want your love and I want your revenge. You and me could write a bad romance…_

For all Blaine knew, Lady Gaga was informing him that Kurt woke up excessively early; Five-thirty to be exact. The senior rolled over onto his stomach and stuffed his face into the pillow. The alarm _finally_ shut up, and Blaine felt the mattress shift as Kurt climbed off the bed and made his way to the bathroom.

While attempting to return to the wonderful world of slumber, Blaine was distracted by the sound of his boyfriends voice drifting though the bathroom door. So instead of going back to sleep, the Warbler rolled onto his back again and just listened.

"Funny how love is every song in every key…" the widely unknown Queen song was carried beautifully by the countertenor. Blaine was nearly being lulled to sleep by the sound of Kurt's voice when he heard the junior shut off the water. Kurt re-entered the room a minute later, and Blaine smiled.

"Now you're the one who's all wet," he said. "But didn't you just take a shower last night?"

"Yes," Kurt said, collecting a multitude of moisturizers off of the top of his dresser. "But if you'd seen my hair this morning you'd understand."

"Aww, I love your bed head though," Blaine teased, earning himself a glare.

"You're lucky you're cute," Kurt said as he walked back into the bathroom.

* * *

_So, I spared you from my fangirly spasms earlier, but now? Not so much._

_ OH MY GOD THEY KISSED. THEY **KISSED. **__THEY **KISSED.** AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH_

___Criticism = Love_

___Love, Live, Sing_


	6. Story

**AN: **_I'm back and I've got a new trick, magical SydSyd is ten times as slick as the last time, the last time you saw me, now you can see that i still write this story. You might know these tricks come in slow, I'm sorry, I'm grounded again, yes I know. This happens oh so often, but at least I'm not rotting in a coffin!  
Okay, enough turning Magical Trevor into Authors notes. I'm sorry I haven't updated since mid-March. But I'm grounded again. :P Also, I got distracted with a new fanfic (A Million Little Things) and a book idea I'm toying with. Anywho, ONTO THE STORY._

**Disclaimer: **_I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE KURT IN A KILT TONIGHT. I own Glee in my dreams._

* * *

_There was a swing set and a yellow swirly slide; there was a set of monkey bars and a sandbox. Kurt knew this place. He hadn't seen it in a long time, but he knew exactly where he was. He was at the playground at his elementary school, sitting on a swing, moving back and forth slowly, his feet barely brushing the ground. No one else was there, the nearby and rusty merry-go-round squeaked as it spun lazily in the breeze._

_ Kurt hung his head as he waited, occasionally looking up, hoping to spot a familiar figure on the sidewalk. Kurt waited for his mother to come and pick him up._

_ She never did._

Kurt opened his eyes slowly, not really sure where his emotions were. The reoccurring dream hadn't come up since he was ten years old. He used to cry every time it happened, but this time he didn't.

_Mom?_

_I know, baby, I saw._

Kurt closed his eyes again and let his mind wander, willing it to avoid the dream. Suddenly, he thought of something he'd never asked.

_What was that thing in the hospital? The black ghost thing, I mean._

_ Just an angry spirit. One of the patients who died in the building._

There was something off about her voice, like there was more she wasn't sharing, or she wasn't telling the truth.

_Why are you lying? _He heard a sigh.

_ It was my brother, _she said. Kurt was confused.

_I have an uncle? _he asked.

_He died before you were born, _his mother explained. _He wasn't a good person, Kurt. He hurt people when he didn't like them, when they offended him. He went to far as to kill a man in his sleep. He made a noose out of the sheets on his bed in prison, and hung himself a month into his sentence._

_ I could talk to him the way you can talk to me, _his mother said. _And he followed me everywhere, making snide comments at everything I did. He despised me, Kurt, because I was the family favorite. Our parents adored me and he never got that kind of attention. He was immature about it. He had taken up drugs in attempt to get that attention, but it didn't work._

_ One day I was so fed up with it, I was so close to being happy, but he was getting in the way. I had you and your father, and he was just looming there, making my life Hell when it was so close to Heaven. So I yelled at him. I was on my way back from an antique show, and I literally screamed out loud._

Kurt knew what was coming next, but he didn't say anything. He knew what had happened that one night when she was on the way back from an antique show.

_That's when the crash happened, _she continued, confirming his suspicion. _He'd swerved the car right off the road and into a tree. The mirror you saw in the hospital was in the back seat. I'd picked it out because I thought you'd like it. _Kurt smiled a little. _Now get ready for the cliché part._

There was a pause.

_ I'm trapped inside._

* * *

_I was going to make this longer, but for some reason I like making these chapters short. :P More soon!_

_Criticism = Love_

_Love, Live, Sing_


	7. Return

**AN: **_I think this might be the longest chapter yet. I had a lot of fun with it, and I think this story is taking off in a different direction than I originally intended. Oh well. That tends to happen._

**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Glee. I only own my imagination._

* * *

_You can't be serious, _Kurt thought.

_I am. That's why you saw me there, _his mother replied.

_ Is there any way to get you out?_

_ You'd have to break the glass. But your uncle wont let anyone near it, that's why he—Kurt, what are you doing? _Kurt had gotten up and started dressing himself in what he deemed to be old clothes. Last season things. He didn't answer, but he didn't need to.

_No. Kurt Elizabeth Hummel don't you even think about it._

He ignored her. He did his moisturizing routine and his hair in silence, putting on his running shoes—he'd need to be able to _bolt_ if it was necessary. He made his way down the Dalton steps quietly, careful not to wake any of the students, or worse, his dorm adviser. He thanked the god he didn't believe him that he knew enough about cars to get his to start near silently, and pulled out of the student lot.

* * *

Okay, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Now that his mother had stopped demanding that he turn around and go back to Dalton _this instant_ and left him altogether, he was fucking terrified. The junior pulled up next to the insane asylum, right by the fire escape he'd crawled down a week ago.

This place was scary as shit, but he had to get his mom out of there.

Gathering his courage, Kurt climbed out of the car and made his way over to the metal structure. Each step brought on more anticipation than the last, each groan and and creak of the old metal shooting a new wave of fear through his body. When he finally reached the top, the countertenor took another deep breath and and slowly slid the window open.

The room reeked of dust, and Kurt suppressed a cough. He noticed the fireplace and old rocking chair were just as he'd left them, but the mirror had disappeared. He couldn't have the wrong room, could he?

Kurt climbed over the windowsill and stepped silently to the ground. No, it couldn't be the wrong room, because there was the door lying on the ground from when he'd kicked it down. Barely breathing, he crossed the room and went out into the hall.

Holy fuck if it wasn't even creepier than before.

As silently as possible, the boy made his way down the hall and carefully turned the first doorknob he came across. It stuck a little, but opened nonetheless. With a loud creak, the door opened slowly. Kurt poked his head inside.

The room was empty, completely bare save for some cobwebs. Kurt was sure to shine his flashlight thoroughly into every corner before easing out of the room again and continuing through the corridor. The next door was locked, and so was the one after it.

_Mom?_ Kurt tried, but his mother wasn't answering. For the first time in a long time, Kurt felt utterly alone. Shaking now, the countertenor continues to test doors until he comes across another that's unlocked. He shines his flashlight around the room, and stops when the light falls on an oval shape, antique metal swirling and facing away from him. Feeling triumphant, Kurt moves to take a step towards the mirror.

_Kurt, don't. He's baiting you. Turn around and run. _Kurt freezes in his tracks, one foot off the ground.

_I can't stop now, I'm so close. _He puts his foot down inside the room, and suddenly he's being hurled inside. He crashes against the wall opposite the door, body automatically curling to protect his head. Kurt's shoulder bashes painfully into the brick, tearing his shirt and leaving a scrape.

The door slams closed and the window shatters above him. Moonlight pours into the room, no longer deterred by the dust-covered glass, and Kurt can see that near shapeless, dark creature coming towards him. He can see now that the figure is a distinct human silhouette from the waist up, but everything below is misshapen.

Scrambling to his feet, Kurt attempted to dash towards the mirror and run like hell, but the figure—which he now knew as his uncle—quickly blocked his path, slowly advancing on him once more.

Shit, shit, shit, shit. What was he going to do? He could turn around and make a run for it, but he needed that mirror, and it was _right there_.

Then it hit him. It was just like the other day when he had been playing basketball with Blaine. 'If you're defender gets right up on you, you can quickly spin around to get past him.'

So when the figure was nearly touching him, and his heart was pounding harder than ever before, Kurt took a deep breath and spun around, ducking under the ghostly arm and dashing towards the corner of the room. He managed to scoop up the mirror and turn it around, only to find the glass empty, showing only his dust-covered reflection. He was sure this was the one though, so he turned around. His path was blocked once more by his supposed uncle, and he was trapped, cornered. No level of basketball skills could help him as the creature raised one hand, not even touching him, and he went flying across the room again.

Kurt screamed, hugging the mirror to his chest as he soared through the air, landing painfully on his back. The air rushed out of the juniors lungs, and he struggled to regain it, vision shifting a little as his attacker drew near him again.

Suddenly, a ruffle of pages was heard, and Kurt could make out the shape of a book flying through the head of the creature. Both Kurt and his uncle turned their heads toward the door, to find Blaine standing in the threshold, arm extended and a serious-business look on his face.

"Blaine?" Kurt gasped, managing to regain some oxygen. "What the hell? Get out of here!"

The dark shadow descended upon Blaine now, reaching out it's long, claw-like fingers towards his face. Blaine braced himself for the contact, squeezing his eyes shut while Kurt scrambled to his feet. He could feel blood trickling down his back.

"Blaine! Run!" Kurt called as the shadow reached for him. Then, it's arm jerked to the side, swinging well away from the seniors head. Blaine's eyes reopened and he smiled broadly.

"Sweet! It worked!" he exclaimed. Kurt stood there for a moment dumbfounded, while the ghost continued to attempt to swipe at Blaine, missing miserably each time.

Next thing he knew, Blaine was standing right next to him and throwing some sort of leather chord over his head. He didn't have time to look and see what it was before Blaine had grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door.

As the pair exited the room, they heard a high pitched, nails-on-a-chalkboard screech come from behind them. Shivers running down their spines, Kurt and Blaine made it back into the room with the rocking chair and fire escape. They made it out of the window without further interruption or attack, and the two Warblers sprinted down the steps and over to Kurt's Navigator.

Blaine pulled the driver's side door open and rushed Kurt inside. The countertenor hissed as something dug into his back. The senior placed a quick kiss on his cheek before demanding that he _drive_ and shutting the door. Kurt watched in his rear-view mirror as Blaine jumped into his own car and fastened his seat belt, then they sped away into the night.

* * *

_There will be more, loves._

_Criticism = Love_

_Love, Live, Sing_


	8. Breaking and Healing

**AN:** _So after eight months, I finally wrote the last chapter of this story. Huzzah!_

* * *

Kurt hissed in pain and bit his pillow as his shoulder stung with peroxide. He was lying on his stomach on his bed in the Dalton dorms, Blaine leaning over him.

"Shh, you're okay," Blaine soothed. "It's not really that bad."

"But it _hurts_," Kurt complained.

Blaine finished cleaning and bandaging Kurt's wound. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Kurt's shoulder once before getting up to replace the first aid tools in the bathroom.

Kurt pressed his face into his pillow, exhausted. Blaine returned from the bathroom, seating himself on the edge of the bed and running his fingers through Kurt's hair.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like someone tried to cut my arm off," Kurt grumbled, turning his head to the side. Blaine leaned down and kissed his temple before standing up and pulling the covers over him.

"Get some sleep, we can figure out what to do with the mirror when you wake up."

"Mmkay," Kurt yawned. _'Night, mom._

_ Goodnig__ht, baby. __Beaux rêves._

When Kurt was asleep, Blaine picked up the mirror from where it leaned against the wall, smoothing a cloth over the glass to remove the dust. He jumped a little when the face of Elizabeth Hummel appeared.

"Sorry," she whispered, not wanting to wake her son.

"It's alright," Blaine replied just as quietly.

"Thank you," Elizabeth continued. "For going to find him, for taking care of him."

"Of course."

"Blaine, I've been watching him for sixteen years, and never has he felt so strongly about anyone as he does about you. He loves you so much, that I'm afraid it's going to backfire on him one day," she said, forehead creasing with concern.

"You don't have to worry about that," Blaine said, smiling. "I love him too, and I don't plan on letting him go." Elizabeth's features softened.

"Just be careful, alright?"

"Of course, Mrs. Hummel."

A moment passed.

"You threw a Bible at him, though? Really?" she asked. Blaine laughed.

"Hey, it was worth a shot."

* * *

"Kurt, baby, you don't have to do this."

Kurt stood in a little clearing in the forest behind Blaine's house. His mother's mirror was in his hands, where he could see her face, misty-eyed and beautiful.

"Yes I do," Kurt said. "I can see how badly you want out. I don't want you stuck in there anymore."

"I love you, baby."

"I love you, too," Kurt sniffed and wiped his eyes. "This is going to be a lot easier if I can't see you though." After another moment of looking at each other, she faded away, and Kurt set the mirror down against a tree. He slid his gloves on, and took the hammer from Blaine's hands, who was standing next to him.

Kurt took a deep breath and blinked the tears out of his eyes. He lifted the tool behind him, and swung it home. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the clearing.

_I love you._

Silence.

The hammer slipped from Kurt's fingers and landed on the ground with a soft _thud_. Kurt turned away from the shattered mirror and buried his face in Blaine shoulder, crying. Blaine wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, and led them back to the house.

* * *

A week later, Kurt trudged into his dorm room after a long day of classes, Blaine close behind. Before he could collapse onto his bed, however, a light caught his eye. Turning, he found his mother's mirror hung on the wall above his desk, glass replaced and frame restored to it's original glory. Kurt turned to Blaine to find him smiling.

"Blaine, what..."

"I took it to a shop downtown and had it restored. I thought you would at least want to keep it," Blaine shrugged.

"I—"

"There's more," Blaine grinned wider. Kurt turned back to the ornament, where his mother's face was now looking back at him.

"Mom? But I thought that after I broke the glass, it would..."

"I'm not stuck anymore. After Blaine got it fixed, I found out that I can come and go as I please, so you don't have anything to feel guilty about," Elizabeth smiled.

Kurt turned around and hugged Blaine fiercely, then turned back to his mother.

"I love you, mom."

"I love you, too, baby."

_**Fin.**_


End file.
